A Social (Media) Experiment

I have been absent from social media during the last two weeks. Did you miss me? My guess is that you didn’t even notice.

Guess what? I did. I really noticed. 🙂

Day one: Day of preparation and determination. In order to better achieve my goal, I moved my apps around on my phone so I couldn’t easily check them with my habitual finger swipe. Did that help? YES! But, I surprised myself by noticing how  immediately (and without thinking) I closed my email (which I check periodically throughout the day for professional purposes) and swiped over to hit the icon (which was now not easily visible–thank goodness).

Day two: Still swiping. Thinking of short quips and posts to share on social media. Wondering if anyone missed me. (They didn’t.)

Day three: Less swiping. More peace. Calmer thoughts.

Day four: Various social media services begin to bombard me with emails wooing me to check my notifications.Wondering if I need social media.

Day seven: Wondering again if I need social media. The people I really need to contact (and who need to contact me) can (and do) text. Or email. And I still check email.

Day ten: Find that the relationships that matter most to me are benefitting from this break.

Day eleven: Achieving deeper focus on the novel I’m writing. Hit a powerful emotional core. Realize that I don’t need it. Not really.

Day twelve: Wondering if I can streamline email so I check less periodically and focus on my goals instead of inconsequential information (and lots of it).

Day fifteen: Blogging about how I might not need social media after all. My life is really full without the pressure of posting, liking, loving, and checking in so often. My heart is peaceful.

Not sure where to go from here, but I’m grateful to know that I can (and DID) take a full-fledged break. And I’m grateful for the clarity that I have all that I need. My marriage and family are happier. I am less distracted. I can see better what really matters. And I am happier.

Leaving you with a Monday song from Hamilton: “Take a Break” (might have some language)

xoxo, Karin 🙂

Can You Feel the Love Tonight?

I was driving in my car down a long stretch of road pasted between lights and buildings, parks and restaurants. My destination was sure, though I was a few minutes behind schedule. I turned on the radio for company, listening to favorites and switching stations often.

When I heard the first few beats of Elton John’s music, I immediately recognized it as his song from Disney’s The Lion King, and I reached to change the station.

Sorry Elton John fans. I recognize his talent as one of the music greats of all time…but his songs just don’t usually speak to my soul.

The closest I’ve come to being moved by his music was his ballad to the late Marilyn Monroe, “Candle In the Wind.” That is, at least until this recent drive.

As I touched the button to change stations, I had a thought to listen to the song.

(I’ve come to recognize that little thoughts like that one are often valuable.)

I settled into the seat, cautious of my speed, as my breathing slowed in time with the music. I began to sing of “kings” and “vagabonds” along with Elton’s smooth vocals.

But, what meant more to me was the way I felt.

I felt love. I felt assurance. I felt that the many pressures, responsibilities, and decisions that rest upon my shoulders were known and recognized by a Higher Power. I also somehow felt that all would be fine.

I wonder if Elton John could have ever known that his song would mean so much to a thirty-something mother and writer while driving her car down an almost-too-familiar road. I could honestly answer yes to his musical query. I did, indeed, feel love that night…and I have tried to carry that feeling of love with me and share it along this road I’m still traveling. ❤

When do you feel love? How do you share it? And what have you created and shared, like Elton John's song, that has become meaningful to others you may not ever know?

A piece of peace

The baby (who isn’t a baby anymore anyway) is already sleeping.  She slips into something like pajamas and meanders through decades of someone else’s creations that everyone else calls music.  A sax plays over people clapping as she finds herself transported to a smoky jazz club back in the 90’s, way before she had a baby to put to bed early.  She wonders if she misses those years…but she already lived them, didn’t she?  Lived them to the fullest, she hoped.

The mood changes as the playlist plays on (Spotify was a great invention of this generation).  DMB sings about colliding or crashing in some various, mildly arousing yet chaste (is that oxymoronic?) expression of love.  She recalls the many moments of crashing she’s witnessed over the last decade or so of marriage.  Car crashes.  Head crashes.  Block crashes.  Window crashes.  Brain crashes.  Soul crashes.

A soulful sax sings to her as cascading hair drifts from her shoulder and to tickle her arm.

In the silence of the music, she feels bliss…quiet…peace.